Snapercup's Baby Part II: More As You Wish extras
by Darth Stitch
Summary: More tales featuring featuring Harry, Severus and their mischievous brood of three. HPSS slash. MPREG. Fluff. Humor.
1. Default Chapter

**_An Introduction:_**

All set in the "As You Wish" universe, these are a set of four ficlets about Severus, Harry, Katerina and Arthur. The stories are complete in themselves but I'll definitely be adding more stories here - watch out for Waverly's story, which is still in the works.

**Not Cute**  
by Darth Stitch a.k.a. Jedi Skysong

**WARNINGS: HP/SS SLASH. **For the uninitiated, that would be Harry and Snape in a romantic relationship. And Harry is very very legal in these fics. Mentions of MPREG. If all of this is not your cuppa tea, click that handy little ol' back button and run for your sanity. Hee.

**DISCLAIMER:**What do you mean they're not mine? Really? Not ever? Not even if I say please with my nekkid furry self on top? Drat. Oh well. Will put them all back in the sandbox when I'm done.

You are not cute.

You deny any resemblance to that appalling adjective utterly. You are quite painfully aware that you are not pretty – that your nose is a raptor's beak, that your hair is too greasy, that your skin is far too unhealthily pale and that your hands are stained with potions residue. Severe, yes – you were named _Severus_ for a reason. Austere, haughty, dignified, stern… you are all of that, as well as being a "bloody, ornery, cantankerous, greasy git" and you are quite proud of that reputation. Hell, you've worked to keep it that way for _years_. Fail in discipline just once and the brats will be all over you and you shudder to think what would happen in Potions class then.

So you present your dignified, austere façade to the world, seemingly incapable of any sweet, sentimental, _maudlin_ impulse.

No one has to know that you are actually capable of smiling – outright laughter even, whenever your irrepressible spouse or your children have done some terrible prank or made some cheeky remark that you find quite hilarious. You are secretly pleased when the children do this – you are quite proud that they seem to have inherited your intelligence and wit.

No one has to know about your secret addiction to chocolate, especially when applied to your husband's body. And no one has to know that you can probably trace the "creative" uses you and your husband have made of chocolate to all three of the times you've been surprised with children. That would be twice for Harry and the once for you – thank Merlin.

No one has to know that "impossible, cheeky, irrepressible brat" is actually an endearment for Harry, that this is the way you keep telling your husband that you love him, each and every day you still have together.

No one has to know that you keep a careful count of the times Harry whispers "I love you." That you treasure waking every morning with Harry in your arms, that you look forward to gently drawing him out of his slumber with a nuzzle and a kiss. That you treasure every evening when the children are abed and you and he are finally alone together, to laugh, to talk and to make love or to simply fall into an exhausted slumber, after the exertions of a long day of teaching and keeping a careful eye not only on your own offspring but on all the students of Hogwarts.

And you alone will know that after suffering years of sleepless, lonely nights, that you will sleep soundly and well and all because Harry is there and he always will be.

And so you will keep your secrets and keep them well, as you've always done. And you will grumble and grouch and growl if necessary because that is who you are and who you've always been.

You will hide the laughter in your eyes and soundly squelch the impulse to seize Harry for a kiss in the middle of the Great Hall, scandalizing all and sundry because your secrets are your own and if you will share them, you will only share them with Harry, who can see through you anyway, no matter what you do.

You are not cute. Or adorable, as Harry keeps telling you.

But this much you will admit to yourself – you rather enjoy him "convincing" you.

-end-


	2. Not Sappy

**Not Sappy **  
by Darth Stitch

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine, alas and alack. But hey, I'll be good and put them back where I found them. Okay? Oh yes, this is a companion piece to Not Cute – the Severus ficlet. This is the Harry ficlet for that. Hee. Be warned for much fluff and sweet stuff again! :D

This story was also inspired by Gwyllion's gorgeous piece of Snarry art "Lost in Love" – which can be found at the livejournal community snapepotter. It's absolutely beautiful. Go see it. The artwork is also linked at my livejournal darthstitch.

**DEDICATION:** For the kind souls who've given me the wonderful gift of paid LJ time and for Gwyllion, who created such a beautiful artwork.

You are not sappy.

Er. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you're a bloody girl, damn it!

Um. That didn't come out right at all, did it? You bury your head in your hands, feeling like you're all of fifteen again, awkward, utterly clueless and tripping over your own tongue. You're a grown man, a respected _teacher_ for Chrissakes, quite happily married and the proud father of three wonderful children. So, really, you know you should be outgrowing this tendency to put your foot into your mouth.

"Idiot," Severus would tell you, only that you know that the word won't have the sting it might have had years earlier. More likely than not, the word would be an endearment and if no one was looking, it would be followed by a kiss that would make you tingle all the way down to your toes and....er, other places as well.

You find it well, kind of sweet, really. Not sappy. You don't do sappy and neither does your husband, as the entire world will attest, because Severus Snape going "sappy" was surely one of the Signs of the Apocalypse. There's no fine lines of distinction here - there's an entire textbook devoted to the differences between "kind of sweet" (which is much different from being completely sweet) and "sappy."

You don't care if it doesn't make sense to others, it makes sense to _you_ and damn it, that's the whole point.

You're used to that, actually. After leaving the Wizarding World reeling from the revelation that "The Boy Who Lived" was quite gay, thanks ever so to bloody Rita Skeeter poking about in your private business, falling in love with one Severus Snape, former Death Eater and all-around greasy git, capped off everything.

What on God's green earth did you see in him? Does he have you under Imperius? Why Snape, for Merlin's sake, couldn't you find anyone better?

The questions angered and hurt you and you only thank God every day that your closest friends, especially Ron, who you thought would hit the roof, were the ones who actually understood you the most. Ron surprised you the most, that day when you decided to come out to them, only to find out that they knew all  
along and were only waiting for you to speak up. Ron still offers a token "eww" at the thought of you and Severus doing anything remotely hormonal but you understand that Ron, like Severus, has a reputation to uphold. He will always play the supposedly judgemental, oblivious, dense Gryffindor just as Severus maintains his role of the sly, cunning, snarky Slytherin.

And as for the questions - well, you've managed to give those stupid and rude enough to ask a good blistering about the ears. There are the surface answers of course - that Severus Snape is indeed a good man, a hero of the War Against Voldemort many times over, who's saved your life time and again, almost at the cost of his own.

But the deeper answers to those questions are between you and your husband alone. The crankiness, sheer cantankerousness and sarcasm are a part of Severus Snape and are not something he affects to hide a supposedly soft exterior. You snort at the mere thought of it. The wit, keen intellect and courage are also an integral part of him but they're not the only things that define him. You love him for all his faults, not in spite of them, just as he loves you for yours. You love him for all his virtues, many of which he indeed keeps carefully hidden from the rest of the world, reserving them only for you and for your children. Mostly, you love him just for being Severus as much as he loves you for just for being Harry.

So it is perfectly understandable for you to cherish each and every day you have together. That you're not being sappy when you start each morning returning his "wake-up Harry" kisses and happily giving in to him wanting to cuddle and er.... more besides. That you take every opportunity to make him laugh - whether it's out loud or just that particular _look_ he gets when he's vainly trying to maintain the stern Potions Master facade and you're not letting him get away with it.

That you're not being sappy when you carefully store in your mind and heart all the good memories of Severus bantering and playing with the children, teaching Arthur potions, helping Waverly tend to her many pets or succumbing quite helplessly to Katerina begging him to read just one more bedtime story, even if he half-heartedly tells her she's old enough to read for herself. You understand your daughter's reasoning - you rather love that distinctively velvety purr yourself.

And you're not being sappy when the mental picture that makes you smile the most during the day is of you blissfully stretched out on the soft living room rug, your head pillowed on Severus' thigh and him looking down on you, delightfully mussed and dishevelled from a rather good snog (one that you're looking forward to repeating again and again and moving it on to more interesting pursuits once you've both got the time).

And what makes that moment so memorable is that faint, sweet smile on Severus' face, that rare smile that hardly anyone gets to see. That smile that he only reserves for you and you alone.

And that smile makes you catch your breath because while everyone else says that Severus Snape is not the most handsome man in the world, you know that the truth is that he's beautiful.

And everything else makes complete and perfect sense.

Love is like that. It just _Is._

And you're not being sappy when you say that. Not sappy at all.

-end-


	3. Birth Day

**Birth Day**  
by Darth Stitch

**DISCLAIMER**: Well, if the Potterverse were actually mine, I'd guess I'd have drowned the population in fluff right about now. snorfles Fortunately, I'm just borrowing them. Mweh. The kids and the lunatic ideas are the only things I own here. Written in honor of Harry and Katerina's birthdays. MPREG.

Harry believes that the infant he now holds in his arms was conceived on Severus' birthday.

It is a silly romantic notion, one that his husband had scoffed at, deriding it as "maudlin and sentimental." And Harry, despite recent events, is not a woman whose fertile times are governed by the waxing and waning of the moon.

Harry remembers the fierce, sharp ache that he felt when Hermione and Ron proudly announced the impending arrival of their firstborn. And now, in the space of this quiet moment that is well-earned after the trials of this particular day, Harry admits that he has indulged himself in imagining of a child of his and Severus' own blood. A little girl whose features would be a pleasant mixture of their own, with perhaps Harry's boundless curiousity and Severus' keen intelligence. A cunning little kitten who would twist both of her fathers 'round her dainty fingers.

Harry admits to the dream and the wish, made in secret, against all logic and sense and hope. Now, he ruefully reflects, he really should have known better. The question is raised, in the dry, droll tones of his husband's voice: _Was not Harry Potter's life often filled enough with the impossible and the improbable, not to mention the utterly absurd?_

And so here he is, a man, who against all the laws of nature, conceived a child. Magic, of course, they have told him - the obvious explanation, both simple and infinitely complex in itself. Magic, the power that Harry posesses in abundance far more than other wizards and witches in their world.

Harry remembers the course of his pregnancy, the changes that his body had made to nurture and bear a child to term. He ruefully recounts morning sickness, mood swings that swung him from blissful serenity to crankiness and short temper.

And oh yes, the cravings for strange foods that befuddled his already bemused mate, who quickly indulged them anyway. Not to mention the fainting fits that had plagued him in the first few months, where he, to his utter mortification, would sometimes swoon away in the middle of lecturing a class.

He wasn't a _bloody girl_, even if he DID get pregnant! Harry had wrathfully thought at the time, even as Severus worried over him in typical fashion, arguing mightily with Madam Pomfrey over Harry's condition.

Harry spares a tender glance for his husband now, who is curled up on the bed beside him, in an exhausted slumber. Madam Pomfrey had not the heart to order Severus out of the Infirmary, not that Severus would have obeyed her in the first place. Not that Harry is complaining - Severus is exactly where he wanted and needed to be.

The child in his arms makes a soft sound and Harry turns his attention to her. They have already chosen a name for her - Katerina. It sounded right. The second name would come later but for now, this little girl was Katerina.

Harry studies her tiny flushed face, tracing a finger down one delicate cheek. He fancies that there is something of his mother Lily in her, from what he has seen in the photos he possesses. Harry takes the time to again wonder at ten tiny little fingers and ten tiny little toes. So utterly perfect.

So all right, Harry knows he was being sappy...well, damn it, right now, they both had a right to be.

Every year, for as long as he could remember, Harry was always awake at midnight for his own birthday. Just himself, with a make-believe cake and candles, or maybe a bit of bread he'd managed to take away from the Dursleys when he was a boy. With the Dursleys long behind him, Harry's birthdays are considerably happier, with this particular one the happiest of all.

But he had still observed that midnight tradition, although for this birthday, that had been derailed by labor pains, announcing Katerina's entry into the world.

Well, it is now late in the evening of July 31st and Harry takes the time to say the words now, to her and to himself. It was still his birthday, well, now _their_ birthday after all.

"Happy birthday," he says softly.

Katerina coos in return.

"She definitely has your eyes," Severus murmurs, startling Harry, who is so engrossed in their new little daughter, that he does not notice Severus waking and sitting up beside him.

"Happy birthday to you too, Severus," Harry tells him.

Severus arches a brow. "If I recall correctly, it is _your_ birth day, not mine."

"Consider it a belated greeting," Harry informs him with a sunny grin. "After all," he hefts the baby ever so slightly in his arms, "your present took a while in getting here. Nine months, in fact. Sorry."

"And that is still the most preposterous, most maudlin sentiment I have ever heard," Severus asserts. "How are you so sure she was conceived on _my_ birthday?"

"Call it a father's intuition," Harry smirks and then laughs softly at the disgruntled look on his husband's face.

"Ridiculous brat," Severus retorts and then, carefully mindful of the baby in Harry's arms, leans forward to steal a kiss. And when they are done, both just a little bit breathless but definitely pleased, Severus' lips are curved in a secret little smile and Harry knows that maudlin or not, his husband really is pleased at the notion.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Severus tells him then. And Katerina chooses to again join the conversation with another soft coo.

"Wants to have her own say in things, doesn't she?" Harry wryly observes. "Takes after you, I think."

"Of course," Severus manages to preen. "It's a far better thing for her to inherit my intelligence instead of my nose. She's a fortunate child."

"I don't know," Harry tells him. "I rather like your nose."

"You are still utterly daft."

Harry lets it go. But in the back of his mind, he pictures a little boy this time, with his eyes and his husband's rather distinctive nose. And perhaps the same, forbidding scowl and sharp wit. The notion is amusing and ludicrous, not to mention terrifying, as he'd just given birth. But it holds a decided appeal.

Harry laughs silently and turns his attention back to his husband and their newborn baby daughter, carefully tucking away that dream, that wish, for another time.

-end-


	4. Arthur Comes Out

**Arthur Comes Out**  
by Darth Stitch a.k.a. Jedi Skysong

**DISCLAIMER:** Harry and Snape belong to JKR, who, I'm sure, would NEVER ever dream up of this universe for my two favorite literary characters. snicker About the only thing here that's technically mine is the idea for the story and the Potter-Snape kids.

The thing that one must remember about little Arthur Potter-Snape was that he was very set in his opinions.

His Daddy claimed that this was a trait he got wholesale from his Papa, while his Papa was of the opinion that Daddy was no less "mule-headed" in his views. His oldest sister Katerina would roll her eyes at their "silly parents" because arguments like this one often ended with one father kissing the other one to "shut him up."

Which made Arthur go "ewww!" and his other sister Waverly giggle.

Arthur could never ever understand why the girls liked kissing stuff and indeed, were delighted when it came up in the stories Daddy or Papa read to them. Papa would always murmur darkly about "convent school" and Daddy would always roll his eyes and tell Arthur that he wouldn't mind the kissing stuff one day. Arthur declared that he would always think that the "kissing stuff" was "icky" and that he couldn't imagine a time when he would change that opinion.

"Well," Daddy told him. "That's going to happen when you grow up."

In that case, Arthur answered, "I don't EVER want to grow up!"

Papa raised his eyes heavenwards and said, "If only that were so."

And Daddy laughed and laughed.

Daddy did take him aside and explained to him that all children grew up one day and that was another reason why birthdays, which was a very important subject in the Potter-Snape household, were invented. If Arthur didn't want to grow up, then he could never never EVER celebrate another birthday again. Arthur pondered that one and said that since he didn't want to miss his birthdays, he was going to have to resign himself to growing up after all.

This time, it was Papa who laughed.

When Arthur turned six, which was a few months after his sister Waverly did, everyone was making a very great fuss over the two of them. Grandma Minerva said that "they were growing very quickly" and that it wasn't very long until they would join their sister Katerina and study at Hogwarts with all the older chidlren.

Arthur had asked her what growing up was going to be like and she laughed and held him close and told him that he would go to school, just like his oldest sister and get into all sorts of trouble like his Daddy and Papa.

Papa, of course, said that he NEVER ever got into as much trouble as Daddy did when Daddy was at school. Daddy spluttered and said "OI!" the way he always did when Papa got him good but Papa shut up when Grandma Minerva said that SHE knew a lot of stories when Papa got into just as many scrapes as Daddy did....at which point Papa gave his most Evil Glare, the one that used to send the older children scurrying.

It looked like Grandma Minerva got Papa good that time.

And then, Grandma added with a teasing glint in her eyes, she told him that maybe one day Arthur would find a nice girl or boy that he really really liked and that he would probably end up having kids and a family of his own just like Papa and Daddy did and Merlin help Grandma when THAT happened.

Arthur then said that he'd find a nice boy just like Daddy, thank you very much, which sent all the adults into gales of laughter.

Arthur had a very well-developed sense about how things were supposed to be and so he had decided, when he was much much older...maybe as old as Daddy was, he would marry a boy - because that was what Daddy did and in Arthur's world, this was the way of things.

Which was why he was very bewildered when his oldest sister Katerina began acting all swoony and silly over a BOY. Because in Arthur's mind, of course, he thought that Katerina should marry a girl. Papa and Daddy seemed really annoyed at the whole business - Papa was especially grouchy and was heatedly discussing "convent school" with Daddy. Daddy however, had mentioned to Papa that he would hex The Boy's gonads off if he broke Katerina's heart.

Which The Boy did and made Katerina cry for days on end. She had told him off in fine style, of course, because she had learned that The Boy was only interested in her because she was "Harry Potter and Severus Snape's Daughter" - a very silly, shallow reason indeed. But she did cry in private, which her family couldn't help but see. Waverly and Katerina had long talks about it and both Papa and Harry, despite their anger at The Boy, were very comforting.

Arthur took it upon himself, of course, to hex That Boy and hex him good. Because nobody hurt his sisters. Ever.

Arthur was pleased to see that it took That Boy the better part of two months to get rid of the curse.

But in researching that curse, Arthur also found out something about boys and girls and how babies were made by mothers and fathers, which confused him very muchly as he knew he only had TWO fathers and no mother at all. Papa had to sit him down and explain the matter to him.

Arthur, however, was stubbornly insistent that he would rather make babies with another boy, one day, just like Papa and Daddy did.

When Arthur turned fourteen, something very odd began to happen to him.

He was, admittedly, very much Papa's son in many ways, not the least of which being his rather "prominent" nose. And by the time Arthur was a teenager, he was known for his irascible temper and sharp tongue, which made many of his own year-mates nickname him "Snape Jr." Arthur unfortunately had little patience with most of his age group who spent their time doing silly, unimportant things.

But then, he began to notice some of the girls.

Well, one girl in particular.

There was something in her smile and in the challenging flash of her eyes, which began to haunt Arthur's dreams. But more, he rather enjoyed the fact that she was one of the few people he could have a decent, delightful conversation with.

"It means that she snarks back and YOU like it," said Waverly, rolling her eyes.

In any case, Arthur knew he was in for trouble when, for the very first time, he exploded a cauldron in Potions class.

"Shocked" was far too inadequate a word to describe Arthur's Papa then.

"You know this potion inside and out, young man," Papa said sternly as Arthur served detention. "What in Merlin's name happened?"

Arthur was miserable. How could he answer that he was distracted by That Girl? That he liked her. As in....really LIKED her. That all he needed to make his day was to see her smile at him and so he usually did little nice things for her that would give him that smile. That sometimes, he would dream of holding her hand and even....kissing her.

That he worried that if he ever told her how he really felt, that she would laugh at him and that he would be just as miserable as Katerina had been. That he couldn't find the words to tell her, because the first thing out of his mouth was usually a good snark so she could snark back at him!

This wasn't right! He was supposed to _like_ boys! His parents were going to be so disappointed in him...

But Arthur couldn't really help it. His days were filled with thoughts of That Girl, which distracted him terribly from his studies and concerned his parents very much. And finally, Daddy hauled Arthur in for A Very Serious Talk.

Confronted by his worried fathers and after weeks of sullen behavior and general moodiness, Arthur finally made his confession.

He liked girls. That was very definite. He liked one particular girl and he didn't understand why that was so, when he always thought he would like one particular boy in the end. But there it was.

He hung his head and said that he hoped his parents were not disappointed.

Arthur was rather surprised when Daddy threw his arm over Arthur's shoulders and began to laugh. Papa was even smiling openly - a rare occasion for him.

And his parents told him that they would never be disappointed if Arthur chose to like girls or boys. "If you love her and she loves you back and you are happy, then we're happy. That's the important thing," Daddy told him.

"Whatever you choose, we will always love you," Papa said then. "Nothing will ever change that."

And for Arthur, that was all he needed to hear.

But as for That Girl...well, that is a story for another time.

-end-


End file.
